


The Wet'N Wild 5K

by Esteliel



Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, M/M, Shower Sex, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 01:21:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13136169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esteliel/pseuds/Esteliel
Summary: Maybe Amanda’s right. Maybe the real winners are the friends we made along the way. But some things are worth gambling for. And that, apparently, includes the Wet’N Wild 5K shower system and every last freckle on a certain general contractor’s glorious body.A Dad Tip I’m never going to share with her, of course.





	The Wet'N Wild 5K

**Author's Note:**

  * For [riverbanks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/riverbanks/gifts).



The kids are curled up on my couch, watching Paranormal Ice Road Ghost Truckers. I know, because Amanda texted me, only a few minutes before we got back to the cul-de-sac. From where we’re parked, I can see the flickering of the TV mirrored in the windows.

We could go in, say good night, go to bed—each of us to our own respective bed, of course. Or maybe Brian would like to come in for a last drink.

Or maybe—

“There’s still some of that disgusting water all over me,” I say and do a little exaggerated shiver of disgust.

“It’s just water. And some blue color.” Brian’s visibly amused, although the corner of his mouth quirks up a little in a way I hope means that he’s picked up on what I’m suggesting.

“You don’t know where that water’s been, Brian,” I say sternly.

His smile widens, although there’s something tentative to the way his brows crease as he leans forward to follow my gaze.

“Well—the kids seem to be busy,” he says softly. “If you’d like a shower at my place—“

“And excellent suggestion,” I say. “You can impress me with your general contractor-ness. I bet your shower is amazing.”

He looks a little bashful—he’s actually flushing, but there’s real pride in his voice when he says, “We just remodeled the bathroom last year, in fact. Would be my pleasure to let you judge for yourself.”

And just like that, I’ve invited myself over into Brian’s bathroom.

I don’t give him an opportunity to wonder if I was really only hoping for a shower. A shower which is, by the way, as amazing as expected. But as soon as he’s started on his explanation of the Wet’N Wild 5K shower system, I’ve got my hands on his shirt, undoing his buttons, and he falls silent.

“Okay,” he says, softly, so that for a moment I wonder if I’m pushing this too far, too fast—but then he’s relaxing, that gorgeous, powerful body going soft beneath my hands, and there’s something warm and curious in his eyes as I strip off his shirt.

Holy shit, he’s incredible. This time, I don’t blush and turn away when I’m faced with those pecs. Instead, I deliberately run my hands over them, feeling gratified when it’s his turn to blush when I find his nipples. They’re already hard, and when I rub the pads of my thumbs over them, he draws in a breath.

“It’s been a long time,” I tell him ruefully when I realize a moment later that his eyes have dropped to the fly of my jeans. I’m achingly hard; a moment later, his hands free me, and I moan in gratitude when his broad fingers wrap around me.

“Couldn’t tell by the size of this,” he says, a little shyly, so that I suddenly wonder how long it’s been for him.

“I bet you don’t have anything to be ashamed of yourself,” I say instead, giving him that old, challenging look. Just like that, sudden electricity sparks, and for a moment, we’re back in that old, competitive mindset.

I unzip his pants. He’s hard, just like I am, and despite his earlier uncertainty, there’s nothing bashful at all about the dick that eagerly pushes forward. 

With a little grin, he allows me to pull him closer—and then I realize that it’s an honest to God dick-measuring contest now. One I don’t even care about losing, at that, because my hand’s on him, and there are some things it’s a pleasure to be defeated by.

“No gambling this time?” he asks, and I shake my head.

“I’ve already got what I want.”

That makes him smile and gently push his hands under my shirt, pulling it up. “So do I,” he says, and it takes a few minutes until we actually make it into the shower.

When we do, I almost regret that I didn’t listen to his proud description of his remodeling.

The shower’s incredible. It fits both of us easily, for starters—it’s one of those luxurious affairs that takes over half the room, water coming from the ceiling and the walls on either side of us. I want to say something appropriately admiring about his Wet’N Wild 5K shower system, but it’s pretty damn hard to come up with words when you’ve got Brian gloriously naked and wet in front of you.

And then he turns around to reach for the shower gel, and I let my eyes linger on his ass. He’s really built like an ox. My mouth waters at the dusting of ginger hair. Despite his obvious strength, there’s a softness to his thighs that makes me imagine kneading them. And his ass…

I swallow and take the shower gel when he turns back. His face is flushed, his eyes soft and dark. There are a hundred things I want to do to him, and a hundred things I want him to do to me.

Instead, I make myself start out by washing him. I run my soapy fingers over his stomach, enjoying the softness of it as I dig in my fingers. He moans in appreciation, leaning easily against the wall, and I give him a small grin.

“I’ve been imagining you— _this_ —ever since you mentioned belly rubs,” I say.

“So was I,” he replies.

I shoot him another grin. “Maxwell’s cuter, though.”

He arches his brow, giving me a look of pretended outrage.

“’S okay. You’re sexier,” I say, and he chokes on a surprised laugh.

“Stupid sexy Brian,” I mutter so softly that hopefully he won’t hear.

“What was that?” Of course he heard.

“You were all I could think about,” I tell him, my hand slowly dropping lower, following the copious pleasure trail downward. “All those days you thought I was hating you, I was instead thinking of doing this.”

I drop to my knees. The shower is still pouring warm water all over us from more directions than should be possible. It’s nice—soft and warm like summer rain.

But what’s even nicer is his cock, thick and heavy, and now, at last, right in front of my face.

Instead of an answer, he just groans when I close my lips around him. He’s a lot to take, but at that moment, with the scent of him warm and heady in my nose, it’s all I want: the size and the weight of him on my tongue, my nose in his wiry hair, the deep groan he makes when he buries a hand in my hair. I can feel the way his thighs tremble against my shoulders.

I move back a little, run my tongue around the head of his cock, then dive back down again. This time, he gasps, his hips coming forward to push into my mouth, and I swallow him greedily, ignoring the angry throb of my own cock.

Instead, with my nose buried deep in his red curls again, I let myself grasp that amazing ass with my soapy hands, squeezing in appreciation as he bucks helplessly into my mouth. I massage his ass, moaning around the heavy dick on my tongue, and then pull his cheeks apart.

He doesn’t protest when I find his hole, and when I tentatively slide a finger inside, his hand in my hair tightens and the sound he makes is almost desperate. I draw back a little, draw my finger back too, and he makes a choked sound of—is that protest? Curiously, I slide in two fingers next, and now the choked moan turns into a groan so loud that I’m glad the kids are safely distracted by Paranormal Ice Truckers, even with an entire garden between our houses.

He’s hot and tight around my fingers. I stroke him slowly like that, trying to figure out what he likes.

What Brian Harding, expert angler and general contractor extraordinaire, _really_ likes is apparently having his ass played with. Which is so hot I don’t even feel my knees, despite the fact that I must have been kneeling on his shower tiles for a good five minutes.

Now my knees might not be what they used to be—but other parts of me show no sign of flagging, not at that moment, with Brian arching desperately against the wall, my fingers buried deep in his ass.

Warm water is gently raining down on my face. I can smell the fresh, clean scent of the shower gel—and beneath it, even here in the shower, the faint, heady smell of Brian’s arousal. His thighs are trembling, his cock giving a little jerk in my mouth. Then I twist my fingers inside him and he reacts with a surprised shout, his body shuddering as he tries to simultaneously push back onto my fingers and thrust deeper into my mouth.

I don’t pull back as he comes. I let him come in my mouth and swallow it down, swallowing around every jerk of his cock while he moans, and when he’s done at last, I keep nuzzling at him with my lips while he softens.

It’s not only because he’s really fucking gorgeous and I’ve been guiltily dreaming of this since the very first time he beat me at bragging about our daughters.

It’s also because my knees really aren’t what they used to be, and I’m not actually sure if I can manage to get up again.

Of course, a moment later Brian grabs hold of my hand and—gentleman that he is—helps me straighten without saying a single word.

Stupid sexy Brian, I think dreamily, and then sigh when he pulls me in for a surprisingly gentle, slow kiss.

Of course, my cock is still aching for relief, but that can wait—at least for a short while.

“What’s that thing you keep muttering?” Brian asks when he pulls back.

“Nothing,” I say too quickly, and he gives me a suspicious look.

Which turns chagrined when he catches sight of my poor, neglected dick. He licks his lips—thoughtfully, or did I imagine that? My dick pulses, very certain that I didn’t imagine it.

But then Brian turns off the shower and steps out to hand me a towel. A large, warm, especially fluffy towel. Damn. He’s got me beaten even at towel fluffiness.

“I’d return the favor,” he says, watching with open appreciation as I step sheepishly out after him, “but I think I’m too old for the bathroom floor.”

“Ha! That means I win!” The words escape me before I can think. Oops. I hadn’t quite intended to turn this into a blowjob challenge.

On the other hand—what better sort of challenge? And Amanda would never know…

He laughs, now quite openly. There’s something very relaxed about him as he watches me. Something happy.

It suits him.

“Actually, I think I’m the one who won.” He pulls me close again, kissing me until I’m the one who groans, then runs his hand down my body to close his fingers around me.

They’re the strong, callused fingers of someone who spends his days building decks and working with his hands. It’s not only incredibly sexy, it’s incredibly amazing, and it’s all I can do to keep from coming right there at his first touch.

“It might not be quite as challenging as the shower,” he then murmurs against my lips, “but I think I’m going to suggest the bed next.”

My aching back is sighing in relief.

“Thought you’d never ask,” I say, and then groan in disappointment when his hand drops away.

He gives me an amused look and turns toward the door—only to stop there and give me an innocent look. 

“Winner gets to top?”

“Can’t wait to lose to you,” I say fervently, thinking of the weight of him on my tongue.

He laughs wholeheartedly, his eyes alight with deep amusement as he holds his hand out to me in invitation.

Maybe Amanda’s right. Maybe the real winners are the friends we made along the way. But some things are worth gambling for. And that, apparently, includes the Wet’N Wild 5K shower system and every last freckle on a certain general contractor’s glorious body.

A Dad Tip I’m never going to share with her, of course.


End file.
